


Breaking the Chains

by Jeanniebird



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Background Speculation, Critical Role Oneshot: Bar Room Blitz, Dark, Gen, Hints at Campaign 2, Murder, Post-Oneshot, Speculation about Matt's World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 02:22:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14802558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeanniebird/pseuds/Jeanniebird
Summary: Jayne Merriweather is a successfull businesswoman who finds herself in an unfortunate situation: A prison cell.She needs to tie up loose ends to achieve ultimate goal: Free the Chained Oblivion.





	Breaking the Chains

**Author's Note:**

> The story is based on the Critical Role Oneshot Bar Room Blitz. I don't think you really need to see it to know what is going on, but I would hightly recommend it, it's a fun watch :)  
> This is the look inside the head of Jayne Merriweather. What happened to her after she burned the guard during interrogation? I find the look into an irredeemable character like her facinating.  
> Liam said while this isn't a character for long term group interaction, it is very fun and he intends to revisit her. I tend to agree. So this is how I think Jayne got herself out of this situation. So while everyone is writing Caleb Angst (keep it coming!), I would like to spotlight truly dark character Liam created. Be warned!

Jayne silently kicked herself. She shouldn’t have been impulsive and burned her interrogator. Before she may have been able to slip by unnoticed, keeping up the pretense of a harmless businesswoman who was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Now this was no longer possible. This was a mistake she might regret later. Then again, the only thing she truly regretted was being unable to finish the job and drag the guard into comforting madness of oblivion. How lovely he burned! The black flames of her divine magic had kissed his face, caressed it, leaving beautiful marks of their affection on his cheek and eye. Now he was marked for the Epoch of End to come. It would have been a truly phenomenal moment if she could have peeled away every layer of the man until nothing remained. The guard had been so naive and untouched, it had been satisfying to rip away the curtain and reveal what was underneath.  
  
That was one of the reasons Jayne loved her profession. Providing clothes for people always meant she was granted immediate insight into those deeper layers. There was always something hiding beneath the most rag-tag coat to the most ostentatious outfit of a peacock. She never understood that need for hiding. That is the reason she prefers a plain white dress. She was a blank slate for her god to write on.  
  
Jayne refocused her thoughts on opening the seam of her dress. It was made more difficult by the fact that her hands were still bound. She needed to make her exit out of this cell, the sooner rather than later. Her master would won’t approve over her sitting idly by in a 30 sq ft hell-hole. Moreover there was the matter of Clothesline in the adjacent cell to deal with. She knew too much. While Fankfurt obviously had a vendetta against her and her god, he wasn’t a problem. Whatever his reasons were to pursue the Chained Oblivion, most likely some kind of misplaced revenge, he would fail. In her experience, everyone attempting to bring down her deity would soon enough learn that that you could not bring down a god who already resided deep below you. Jayne had met a few people who had stumbled and fell into the abyss they were so eager to destroy. Dragged down by chains of vengeance on their tainted souls they could not break.  
  
The cat was different, though. Her issue with Jayne was personal. While her anger might also consume her one day, that day might be too late for Jayne. She didn’t want to be at the receiving end of her claws before her mission was complete. Moreover Clothesline may have the means to find her and her operation. After all, she knew the location of one of Jayne’s warehouses. She had been overseeing the arrival of a new batch of silk when she had found the tabaxi bleeding the back ally, no doubt due to some street fight. Jayne had never asked, because she didn’t care. She had almost turned back to her work, but reconsidered. The cat had looked very able-bodied and the not all the blood in her fur originated from the knife wound in her guts. She was probably the one who had walked, or rather crawled, away from this encounter. The tabaxi could prove to be useful.  
  
Healing was a very useful ability. Her commitments often put herself in danger, moreover it was also useful to be able to heal others. It was fascinating which bargains people close to death were willing to strike in return for saving. Moreover, some honorable people sometimes felt in debt to their savior. While the bloody tabaxi did not strike Jayne as overly honorable, she appeared to pay her debts with tooth and claw, if her scars were anything to go by. The businesswoman prided herself as someone who was able to read people quite well. It was essential in her line of work.  
  
The last seam opened up and the straps at the top of her dress and the inner layer was revealed. Disgusted she threw away the wooden splint she had made by breaking the spoon of her supper. It had been a horrible tool to open seam but there hadn’t been an alternative. Her bound hands didn’t help either. The guards had taken her holy symbol in order cut her off from the Chained Oblivion. These efforts had been amusing to watch. Nobody could cut her of like that. To sever the connection, they would have needed to flay her. Jayne absentmindedly caressed the tattooed chains on her collarbones. For some reason most people where quite reluctant to skin a person alive...  
  
She grabbed the tainted chains she just revealed from the inner layer of her dress. Then she took the straps she had painstakingly opened and put them away. After all, it was enchanted cloth and she intended to reattach it later. With her unholy symbol retrieved she rose from the ground. With a twirl she assessed her surroundings. The cell was small, dirty and almost empty except for a bucket for waste and bowl with something that could be stew, if Jayne used her imagination. Three clay walls surrounded her and the last barrier were iron bars preventing her escape. Jayne’s petite frame and pristine dress were very out of place in these surroundings.  
  
One more reason to make her exit. Her first priority was to get her hands free for casting. Thankfully, not all spells required somatic components for casting. She only needed a victim. She moved to the bars and looked through into a hallway of five cells on each side. Jayne had been placed in the cell near the entry, because they had wanted to keep an eye on her. In her opinion, he guards on duty had done a very poor job with that. There was a single man posted at the entrance. He was sitting on a stool and currently reading a book. It was grimy and probably a hand down. Jayne despised humanoids even more considering that several of them apparently thought a title like _Tusk Love_ was worth their time. Her master would use his time on this plane so much better.  
  
Her hand clenched the chain wrapped around her fist as she called out to the guard “Hey, you there. The bucket here is full!” That much was true, her cell stank hideously. The bucket hadn’t be emptied after the previous inmate had been dragged out. The only response she got was a grunt, but otherwise no reaction. She’d expected as much. Her strategy was to annoy him until he came over, nothing else. “Hey mister, don’t you think you are neglecting your duties?”, she insisted. This time, the guard turned to her: “Doll, you apparently have no idea how this goes, but you are in no position to make any demands. Now shut the fuck up!” He turned back to his book, if it even deserved that description. Jayne briefly considered using her Thaumatury to increase her voice and annoy him even more. She quickly dismissed that idea though, as she didn’t want to tip him of that she was in possession of a holy symbol again. He apparently still underestimated her.  
  
“I don’t think this will sit well in your résumé once I am released”, she told him. The guard with the dirty blond hair only scoffed and tried to focus again on Tusk Love, clearly not succeeding. “What are you reading there anyway? It doesn’t look like a very educational book, so there is nothing lost if you do your duty for once”, Jayne continued. The guard snarled and slammed the book on the table. He stood up and walked over to her bars. “Look, doll. There is no way in hell you are simply gonna be released. You burned Nodwick in the interrogation chamber! You can’t be so dense to think the judge will simply let that slide?”, he sneered at her. In response, Jayne took a step back from the entry and with the grin of a malicious cheshire cat on her face. “No, of course not. That’s why I would like you to _open_ these for me”, she layed all her power granted by the Chained Oblivion into that word. The guards eyes went distant as he nodded and grabbed the keys at his belt. He opened her cell door and reached for a knife to cut her bonds. Jayne went perfectly still as the blade moved between her wrists. As soon as the bonds fell off, she moved towards the door before the guard could collect is bearings. With one hand she closed the door regarding the bond human, who turned around towards her, his disorientated gaze focusing on her. Realization dawned on his face. “You, bitch”, he cursed as she closed the door completely. While removing the keys from the lock her other hand, finally unbound, moved to her mouth, hushing him. “ _Silence_ ”, Jayne commanded in abyssal.  
  
A pleased smile crossed her lips as she saw the guard racing towards the bars. He was screaming at her and no doubt trying raise an alarm. He stopped as few seconds later as he realized that he was unable to produce any sound. Even banging at the bars proved to be fruitless. He stumbled back, desperation appearing on his face. No doubt he thought he had gone deaf. Jayne smiled and reveled in his despair. Although she was disappointed that she didn’t have the time to burn him, his expression almost made up for it. She wasn’t here for pleasure though. After all, there still was a person she needed to eliminate. The petite woman stepped aside to the bars of the adjacent cell. Suddenly, a clawed hand shot out between the bars and hit her square across the collarbone and chest, ripping parts of her dress. Jayne stifled a pained scream in order not to alert anybody. The pieces of her ripped dress mended back together as she looked down but the blood continued to flow from the wound. The droplets ran down the enchanted cloth like water on a lotus flower.  
  
“That was not very nice”, she told Cothesline on the other side of the bars, who furiously stared at her. The tabaxi snarled and answered while pouncing for another strike: “Well, I’m not a very nice person”. This time, Jayne was prepared for the attack and managed to avoid it by stepping back out of Cotheslines reach. She grabbed the extended arm. “Right back at you”, she told her and whispered a few words of power while holding onto Clotheslines arm. The tabaxi gasped as suddenly wounds started opening all over her body. The pattern wasn’t random, but instead linked oval shapes, like chains wrapping around Clotheslines body. Jayne used all the magical energy available to her while the spell. She had to finish this quickly. The death cleric released a breath and reached deep within throwing her connection to her deity wide open. As she started to channel the divinity of the Chained Oblivion, the wounds on Clotheslines body began to fester. The flesh at the edges began to rott and maggots emerged from the wounds, devouring the tabaxis living flesh.  
  
The fighter screamed and broke Jaynes iron grip with her superior strength. “Let me free and fight me like a warrior without your foul tricks”, she demanded, retreating to the other end of the cell, out of Jayne’s reach. The cleric shoke her head and whispered a few words, stained through the pain, wiping away the blood on her collarbone. The scratches began to heal beneath her fingers. “Now, where would the sense in that. I’m not going to leave behind loose ends like you again. You won’t have the opportunity to buy your freedom by telling the judge where to find me.”, she reasoned. Black flames started to burn in her eyes. She released them like mad tigers at a kitten. Clothesline was unable to fend them of. Instead she went into the offensive again, trying to reach Jayne with her strikes again, but the businesswoman kept her distance. Soon, the smell of burned fur filled the cell. Closthesline collapsed against the bars she was pressed against in order to strike down her tormentor. Jayne crouched down to look into the eyes of the tabaxi in her dying moments. Those where always the most fascinating seconds in a person’s life and a glory to watch. Clothesline wasn’t like most, begging, pleading or afraid, but instead the defiant spark remained in her slitted-green cat-eyes.  
  
“You are going to burn in the nine hells for this”, the fighter promised her. “ _I don’t think so_ ”, Jayne refused in abyssal, “ _you have the wrong location._ ” With that, she gently blew the dark flames dancing on her palm into the tabaxis face and watched as the last of fur and skin melted away.  
  
Jayne didn’t have time to admire this beautiful death. She needed to hurry. She still had to retrieve her belongings, as well as find a clue to the girls location. After all, there had been a purpose to her coming to that unfateful tavern. But she needed to move quickly. She was still keeping the link to her deity open, fueling the spell in the other cell, but she could tell that she wouldn’t be able to hold that channel open forever. Therefore, the woman stood up leaving the stench of the small prison district behind. She carefully approached the table at the end of the hall where the guard had been sitting. The guardroom where they kept the prisoners belongings was right behind that. She had witnessed the arrest of another inmate. Jayne briefly considered if she should try to open the door quietly and peak through, as she wasn’t prepared who was in there. She quickly dismissed that idea, since she knew that subtlety wasn’t her strong suit and she had a better chance at surprising whoever was inside. She was lucky though, as she swiftly opened the door she realized that nobody was in the room. Her glance landed on the weapon rack first and she did indeed find her enchanted whip among the confiscated items. Then she took a look around. There was a desk with several drawers below the window and a heavy reinforced iron safe on the other. Several shelves lined the other walls, with numbers on them with mostly sorted items. She found the clothes section and her pristine white overcoat and a hat, right under a dirty trench coat and some loose buttons. She was glad that her coat had the same useful enchantments as her dress or it would have been sullied. The hat she hadn’t anticipated to be this useful in her endeavor, but now she was glad she had brought it along anyway. She considered rummaging through the possession of the other prisoners, but she quickly realized that it would take her to long a time to determine if anything was valuable or useful in this situation. They obviously hadn’t recognized her hat of disguise as such or they wouldn’t have left it with the other mundane items. The cleric had quickly noticed that her holy symbol was not present on the shelves, it had probably been deemed dangerous enough to be locked away or destroyed. She hoped the former. If it was still around, maybe it’s festering presence would poison the minds of the people around it and bent them to her lords will.  
  
The petite woman quickly turned her attention to the desk, looking for clues of her casefile. She needed a hint where they had sent Holly. They probably had kept some notes how to contact her for further information. The girl would make the perfect sacrifice. Jayne was certain she was one of the fate-touched, that could be the only reason the Chained Oblivion had shown her the girl time and time again in countless visions. Duscar was fast approaching and everything needed to be ready for the ritual. After all, her schedule was very tight. She only had two weeks left until the two moons would align with the Void, the dark spot on the Exandrian night sky. This opportunity presented itself only every 13 years. This one was especially important. Her family had tirelessly to on these rituals for four generations, their legacy rested on her shoulders in these days. She had been there 13 years ago, the aristocratic features of the Eladrin twisted in pain and agony. That day, Jayne’s mother hadn’t allowed her to wield the sacrificial blade, but her mother had made sure she would be able to remember every single word, write the runes and place the knife. Now it was her turn. Her ancestors had done the eight previous rituals. The one in only two weeks would be the ninth, final one. Each life to break a link of the first chain which kept her lord imprisoned. Soon he would break free just like her.  
  
Finally, Jayne found the parchment with the dates refereeing to her take in. But before she could examine them closer, she heard footsteps outside the door. She turned in that direction, but before she had any time to hide, a half-elven woman in guard uniform opened the door: “Hey Alaric, I heard some noises form the cells and wanted to check….”, she didn’t finish her sentence as she saw Jayne standing in the room. She immediately pointed her halberd towards the escaped prisoner. “You there, drop everything and step away from the desk!”, she demanded. Jaynes mind was racing. She needed to dispose of this woman as quickly as possible, but she would risk the discovery of the other guard, Alaric. Then again, she had already gathered everything of real importance to her.  
  
“I said drop it!”, the guard demanded again. Jayne raised her hands, but instead of surrender, there was only defiance in her eyes. The woman realized it as well and while Jayne was already whispering her incantation, the trained guard was much quicker. She went for Jayne’s throat not wanting her to finish her spell. She ducked away in the last second, but the axe blade of the halberd cut deeply into her shoulder. Only with an iron will was Jayne able to whisper the final words of the incantation. Before the guard had any time to pull her weapon back for another strike, her muscles contracted and she froze in place. Jayne had to gather all her self-control. Between this almost mortal strike and the hits Clothesline had landed, as well as her dwindling magic, she had to be gone fast or her escape would be very unlikely. Her ancestors and her god counted on her success. She was not allowed to fail.  
  
She stepped back, thereby pulling the halberd blade out of her left shoulder. With her uninured arm, she was still able to use her whip, which was very easy against her paralyzed opponent. The white leathered weapon seemed to come to life in Jayne’s hand as she struck her opponent. The stands with the nasty hooks almost seemed to caress the guards throat as they coiled around it. The hooked teeth woven into the leather strands drew blood as they tore through the woman’s carotid. The weapon wasn’t always this hungry for blood, but Jayne was glad for it at this moment. She watched in fascination as within seconds, the blood streaming down from the guards neck turned black and seeped into the whip, painting dark lines between the white strands. The half-elf’s body began to wither and her flesh melted away, leaving only festering bits of flesh on a rotting skeleton. The blood in the whip began to swirl and pull together forming a new sharp, hooked to tooth, ready to rip into flesh.  
  
Jayne was torn out of her reverie, by distant banging outside the door, probably the other guard. She whispered a curse, followed by a quick prayer of healing, which at least stopped the bleeding of her shoulder wound. She downed the hat of disguise, taking the bloodied form of the guard she had just murdered. Trusting her disguise, she exited the room and made her way towards the exit of the prison. Near the entrance, two guards approached her. “Hey, Elendra! What’s this riff-raff all about? And why are you covered in blood?”, Jayne had been prepared for this question, intending to lead them of her trail for at least one more minute to exit the building. “I got scratched by the cat!”, she told the dwaven woman with a low, pained voice, hoping it was enough. She got a raised eyebrow for her trouble, “Are you all right? Can you walk?”, there was concern, but also a little skepticism. “Yes, I’m fine, go help Alaric,” she told the dwarf, placing her bloodied hand on her sleeve to solidify the illusion. The name-dropping seemed to do the trick for now and the guard nodded in agreement. “All right, go to the healer. Those wounds don’t look great. Wouldn’t want an infection to spread.” She pushed out of the way, her Halfling companion staying at the door as Jayne stepped through the front entrance.  
She had made her escape, now it was time to orchestrate one for the Chained Oblivion. She had all the tools she needed...

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this was delightful ;-) It was a lot of fun having making some references to the second campaign as well as lore from the first.  
> English isn't my first language, be gentle with your judgement on that front. Criticism is always welcome, there is only one way to improve :-)


End file.
